First Time, For All Time
by Miss Late Bloomer
Summary: A two-shot set a couple months after the first movie. In chapter 1, Evy has a secret to tell Rick. In chapter 2, the story earns it's rating. R&R please. FINISHED.
1. Chapter 1

Hi folks. I've always loved these movies, (although I'm upset to learn that Rachel Weisz isn't going to be in #3) so decided to do something about it. Of course, I don't own anything in regards to any of the _Mummy_ movies, never pretended to. I just love Rick and Evy, but especially in the 1st. If the 2nd one is fresh in your mind, remember that there's quite a few years in between, and I'm basing characterization on the first movie. This is one of two parts. I might write more for _The Mummy_ if I get enough of a response, so review if you want more!

**First Time, For All Time**

Evelyn Carnahan was in heaven, so happy she could scarcely believe it. As horrid of an ordeal as Hamunaptra had been, it seemed as though it was meant to be. The treasure that they'd brought back had solved the family's financial difficulties beyond her wildest hopes, though she suspected Jonathan would fritter away his portion in record time. Well, there was nothing for it, and if her misadventure in the desert had taught her anything it was that life was too precious and fragile a gift to work herself into a state over her hopeless brother.

Besides, her newfound wealth was not the only thing that had Evy smiling and humming under her breath in the morning. Love was in bloom, and she was certain that Rick, (it still gave her an entirely juvenile but undeniable little thrill to call him by his Christian name and cast formalities aside) felt the same way. Oh, he hadn't said as much, but he didn't seem to have much experience at courtship, so she was willing to be patient.

Two months after Hamunaptra, they were still in Egypt. They'd all agreed on the story that Jonathan had come into an inheritance from his spinster aunt on his mother's side. Though Jonathan had been very young when Thomas Carnahan had married his young Egyptian bride, and she had treated Jonathan as her own son, he didn't have a drop of Egyptian blood. He was thoroughly British; his mother a respectable and wealthy lady from London, an arranged marriage. (Though the money had long since been spent on the Carnahan adventuring.) Thomas' true happiness had been in his second marriage. In any case, their different maternal heritage was most convenient now, as Evy wished to keep her portion of the fortune a secret. Rick had helped her liquidate some of the treasure discreetly, and find a safe place to 'stash her cash.' Evy had carried on at the library. It had taken her weeks, with Rick and Jonathan's help, (although he had been more reluctantly pressed into service) but she'd put everything back to rights. A new curator, a Mr. Brooks from New York, had taken over the post, and had taken the young librarian under his wing. He'd elevated her to the post of his assistant, and her vast knowledge had made her invaluable to him.

Her free time was mostly spent with Rick, who was courting her, after a fashion. No, there was no poetry, and precious little in the way of flowers or chocolates, but Evelyn had learned that poisonous lies could be hidden in pretty words and gallant gestures. She trusted Rick's intentions, such as they were, and for all his blunt ways, he made her feel cherished and beautiful with just a look. What truly touched her heart was the effort behind his actions. He was trying to do his best in the role of suitor, though it was obvious he felt awkward. And if he'd been after her heart, he'd certainly succeeded.

But underneath Evy's happiness was a nagging fear that was becoming most difficult to ignore. She told herself she was borrowing trouble, that she had nothing to be anxious over, or feel guilty about. Her past was her business, wasn't it? Had she pried into his personal matters? Certainly not. And yet, the little voice that she recognized as her conscious told her that it wasn't at all the same. In Rick, she understood explicitly the bargain she was making in him, his faults and virtues, whereas Rick had been mislead where she was concerned. Oh, not intentionally, of course, for Evy was an honest soul, perhaps even to a fault. Nonetheless, the man simply didn't have pertinent information where she was concerned.

"Blast," she muttered under her breath. She tried to leave the cowardice and self-serving agendas to her brother, but she was acting as badly as he was. How could she ever admonish him again without being a flaming hypocrite? And what's more, Rick had been nothing but decent and honest with her. Well, naturally he was honest with everyone, but that wasn't the point. She owed him complete truthfulness. She could only pray that he cared for the woman she really was, not some angel he'd placed on a pedestal.

"Why the long face?" She heard his voice, dear and exciting from across the room. She looked up, her eyes hungry for the sight of him. He was propped casually against the wall of her small parlor, a lazy smile on his lips, his thumbs hooked into the loops of his belt.

"Oh…hello." She knew she sounded like a breathless schoolgirl, but that's how he made her feel. She started to rise from her chair, but he waved his hand at her not to trouble herself. Her stomach ached with nerves, her throat tight with them. She clasped her hands together in her lap until they ached.

A worried expression crossed his handsome face. "Okay, let's have it."

Oh, good Lord, had he guessed? "It?" she all but croaked out.

"Whatever mess you've gotten yourself into, just give it to me right between the eyes." He sounded exasperated, but there was patience there. She knew that for all his ranting and grumbling, he was ready to help with whatever 'mess' she'd created. If she wasn't consumed with this matter, she might have lectured him about his dreadful habit of jumping to conclusions.

"It's not really a mess." Without an ounce of grace, she lurched to her feet, almost knocking over the small table in front of her. Rick, almost cat like in his movements, was what saved the poor table from toppling over. Evy was too overwhelmed by the confession she was about to make to feel embarrassment over her clumsiness. "I have something to tell you."

"Okay," he said cautiously, taking the seat she'd just vacated.

Pacing, Evy latched onto her locket, and wished her heart wasn't pounding so. "I don't know where to begin."

"Start in the middle, start at the end, just start any damn place." His swearing was one of those…rough habits she'd grown accustomed to. And Evy, though she never would have told him so, had heard far worse, knew that Rick's cursing was mild in comparison to the other words he probably knew quite well. "Look, Evelyn, why do you look like a kid's that about to be taken behind the woodshed? Come on. It can't be any worse than bringing some guy back from the dead."

"It's very rude of you to bring that up every chance you get." Evy tried to smile, but her lips wouldn't comply, so she gave up. "As for how serious this is, at first I told myself that the past was irrelevant, that it was my business entirely."

"What'd you do? Return a library book late?" Oooh, his flip attitude wasn't making this any easier, and Evy fought down her annoyance. A few seconds of silence passed, with Rick's eyes seeming to search her face intently. He got up, heading over to her. He drew her back against his chest, rubbing her arms soothingly. "This is really eating you up, isn't it?"

"I'm not quite the woman you believe me to be," she blurted out. "You think I'm some sort of pure angel who has never known a life outside library walls. Well, I assure you, sir, that it is not the case. It's my fault that you've got the facts wrong, I never told you otherwise."

She felt him rest his chin on her head, and since she couldn't see his face, she had no way of telling how he was reacting since it was a bit before he said anything. "Evelyn, are you trying to say you used to be a little wild?"

"Nothing of the sort!" she cried. He abruptly drew away, and out the corner of her eye, she saw him rub at his ear. "If you're implying that I used behave as rotten as Jonathan-"

"Honey, I've seen you with a snoot full. If you were anything like Jonathan, you'd hold it better," Rick told her dryly. He drew her back, resuming that delightful rubbing. The flesh beneath the sleeves of her blouse began to tingle in pleasure. Sternly, she told herself to keep steady on; she hadn't really told him anything yet.

"Yes, well, never mind that. What I meant was that…I…have…a past, Rick. I'm…" Lord help her, words failed her.

"Evelyn, are you trying to tell me you're not a virgin?" Curiously enough, he didn't sound upset, but perhaps he hadn't absorbed the implications just yet.

"That's about the size of it," she admitted in a whisper. "There's only been one man, in that way, I mean."

"Come on, why don't you sit down, huh?" He guided her back to the chair, and with little encouragement she fell back into it. "So who was this guy? I'm guessing it was serious between you two."

"Of course it was!" she burst out, her indignation finally giving her the courage to look at Rick's face. He just raised an eyebrow at her until she settled back down. "His name was Winston Dudley, we met in London. Before Jonathan and I came to Cairo we used to live there with my Aunt Mae, my father's cousin. They were raised as brother and sister, so we just referred to her as 'aunt.' She'd been a widow for ages, and had no children, so she was happy to have us. My parents had been dead since I was thirteen and Jonathan seventeen. I had always meant to return to Egypt…but…" she shook her head, waving a hand about in dismissal. "That's neither here nor there. I'm digressing badly. In any event, I'd made my life in London, and that's where I met Winston. He was the most dreadful mistake I would ever make."

"You two hit it off at first though, right?" he prompted. He settled in the chair across from her, stretching his long legs. He seemed relaxed, and this calmed her raw nerves to some degree.

"Yes, I suppose. He was a bit older than me, 29 to my nineteen years. He was very charming and sophisticated. He was a photographer and had seen every corner of the world, and done extensive work in Egypt." She sighed a bit ruefully, resting her chin in her hand. "Looking back, I have to wonder if he didn't use his work as a bit of a ploy. I don't mean to shirk my responsibility-"

"Dam straight it was a ploy," Rick agreed, interrupting. He reached over and took her free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Evy, think about it. He was older, been around, sounds like he had the smooth, suave thing down cold. And hell, you've got a nineteen kid eating it all up. Like stealing candy from a baby." She clung to his hand, grateful thus far he wasn't angry. Rationally, she knew he had nothing to be angry about, as all this happened years before they ever laid eyes on each other, but men were known to make awful fusses about this sort of thing.

"I don't mean to sound as though I was victimized. I was a silly girl with stars in my eyes, and no one forced me to abandon good sense. I certainly shouldn't have believed all that rubbish about marriage after four weeks of courtship." She lifted her chin from her hand, and ran said hand over her face in self-exasperation. "He said he was mad for me, that I was the woman he'd always been searching for, and that we'd be married before the year was out. Fool of all womankind that I was, I never doubted his word. Jonathan even warned me."

Rick shook his head, bringing Evy's knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. "Well, he's probably sweet talked a gal or two in his time, so he'd know. Let me guess, it didn't go over so good."

Wincing, she shook her head. "No, I became rather cross with him, and said such nasty things. I even accused him of wanting me all to himself so I could clean up after him until we were both old and grey."

"Somehow, I doubt you getting married is gonna stop that. Face it, Evy, you and Jonathan are a package deal. Still, I'll say one thing for him, he's loyal, and once in a while, he get's it right."

"Well, in this case, he _was_ right," she conceded. She looked away, feeling memories sweep over her. "I gave myself to Winston in the understanding that I'd be his wife. I saw our future as a continuation of my mother and father's legacy, adventuring together, living our dreams side by side. He encouraged this belief, even made plans about the places we'd see. I should have begun to suspect, though, when he kept making excuses to avoid setting a date for the wedding. I suppose I only saw what I wanted to see."

"Look, this guy sounds like a piece of work. You're probably not the first sweet young thing to fall for his act," Rick pointed out reasonably. "Probably won't be the last."

"I'm not sure if that's comforting or not." She wrinkled her nose at him, but inside was so grateful she wanted to cry. She believed that it really was going to be all right. Then the black recollection of what happened next entered her mind, and she swallowed hard. "And then it happened. I made the discovery that I was going to have a baby. I was surprised, but not upset. I only thought it meant that Winston would finally settle down about the wedding."

Rick looked incredulous. "You mean this Winston character wasn't careful?"

"Careful?" Evy echoed, biting her lip thoughtfully. "We never discussed it. Is there a way to prevent a baby…I mean for well and certain? Since I thought we were to be married in any event…"

"Yeah, I get it. As for the rest, later, later. I just don't know where his brain was. Hell, he probably didn't give a damn. What happened after that? Obviously, you aren't Mrs. Dudley." Rick gently pulled her out her chair, settling her onto his lap, cradling her.

"Winston…well…he became a stranger. He demanded that I see a doctor that handles such delicate matters. When I refused, he became furious. Why, he struck me!" Evy's hand drifted to her cheek, and she felt Rick stiffen behind her. "No one had ever lifted a finger against me. Well, except for my nanny who would give me a smack when I needed one, but this was different. The way he looked at me, I was afraid. I was informed, under no uncertain terms, there would be no wedding, and he wouldn't claim the child as his. I won't repeat the rest, it's just too ghastly."

"I can guess." Rick's voice was low and tight, but Evy understood she wasn't the target of his anger. Still, she had a fleeting thought that it would be well for Rick and Winston never to meet, for Rick might have another appointment with a rope and a drop when all was said and done. "Your aunt find out?"

"She was irate. Jonathan, bless him, vouched for me, but considering that his behavior was hardly above reproach, all that earned him was boxed ears." She saw Rick briefly smirk, before pressing his face into her hair. "I was sent here to have the baby under the guise of family sentimentality as this was where I lived for a time as a child. Jonathan went along as a chaperone, a fine joke as I've always been the one to look after him. I was dreadfully ill, and we had a miserable time of it with quite a few storms. I lost the baby. It was…I was told that I was lucky. The nurse aboard told me it could have been much worse, that I had not bled overly much, that I could still bear children with great ease."

"And you've been here ever since?" She nodded, relieved that the business of telling him was finished. They just sat that way for a time, Rick pressing a kiss into her hair, holding her tightly. "So, that's what's been worrying you, huh?"

"Yes. You don't seem…I mean you _are_ taking this rather well. Quite a few men would be put off by this story."

"First of all, I ain't most; second of all, if I'm 'put off' it's over this Winston creep." She looked up at his face, shivered at the mask of rage his face had settled into. "Bastard better hope that I don't meet him."

"I quite agree," she murmured nervously. "But aren't you upset that I have a past?"

"Who doesn't?" Rick retorted, his expression calming. "Look, Evelyn, you made a bad bet, fell for a story. It happens. Do I wish I'd met you first? Sure, I'd be a liar if I said different. What does get to me is that you got so worked up about telling me. Did you think I'd make tracks?"

"No. Yes. Oh, I don't know!" She tried to get off his lap, but he held her fast. "I suppose I was afraid that you would never look at me the same way again. Men like virgins, don't they?"

"Wouldn't know, never had one. Guess I never will." He gave her his lopsided grin, nuzzled her jaw, leaving sweet kisses behind. She felt herself melting in his arms, tilting her head to give him better access. His lips traveled lower, attending the sensitive skin of her neck. Every cell of her skin began to awaken and hum, her body coming alive. She'd felt desire with Rick before, had been left trembling and aching with need. But now she felt a freedom that hadn't existed previously, she was no longer a prisoner of her secret. He knew and still did not turn away from her.

"I love you, Evelyn Carnahan," he whispered reverently into her ear, leaving off his lovely torment for a moment. "You think what happened years ago is gonna make a difference to me? You're stuck, honey. Get used to it."

"If I must." She took his lips, kissing him with a wild abandon she'd never displayed before…ever. The ghosts of her past indiscretions had finally been banished.


	2. Chapter 2

Evelyn felt herself getting swept away by passion, felt herself surrendering to Rick's persuasive attentions. It had been five years since she'd given her body to any man, and her mind had forgotten the glorious stimulation one could feel in such a moment. After the heartbreak and humiliation at Winston's hands, then the later loss of their child, she'd ceased being a woman in a way, determined to disregard her own sensuality. Now Rick was reminding her in the most delicious way possible, and it was thrilling…and terrifying.

He must have felt her stiffen against him, and she expected confusion, perhaps even anger. She knew what he might be thinking, that she was no innocent, why should he control his natural inclinations? If she was already used, why shouldn't he enjoy himself? She pulled back from him enough to look into his eyes, dreading what she'd find. She did find confusion, but not the anger she'd expected.

"Evelyn? You okay?" His fingers were caressing her cheek, a touch that held the sweetest of affection.

"Well, yes, of course," she whispered breathlessly. "I only…I just…oh, blast! It's a fine mess I'm making of all this!" She tried to lurch off his lap, but the man had more than his fair share of stubbornness, and wouldn't have it.

"Take it easy, honey. Just relax for a minute." Was the man trying not to laugh at her? How could that be? Didn't he know how serious this matter was? _Perhaps to him, it isn't, _a very rude voice whispered in her mind. "What eating at you now?"

It took Evy a minute to gather her courage enough to address the matter at hand. "You want…well…_me_, don't you?"

"Sure do," he was quick to answer carelessly. "But I figured you knew that already." She nodded, her movements a bit abrupt. "That wasn't a problem before, right?"

"Rick, 'problem' is entirely too hasty of a word," she informed him, raising her chin a notch. "And I…I'm pleased you want me. And I know that I have no right to behave…" she paused for a moment, trying to find the right way to phrase this. "…as though I'm some virtuous schoolgirl-"

"Whoa, whoa." He gathered her close, kissing her temple. "You can behave however you want. You don't have to go to bed with me if you don't want."

"But I do want to," she blurted out. Embarrassment crested over her, her face on fire. She buried her face in her hands, and Rick, scoundrel that he was, had the audacity to laugh at her discomfort. Mortification and annoyance warred. "Oooh!" she cried, her head snapping up to glare at her unrepentant suitor.

Before she could properly scold him, Rick robbed her of the opportunity. His mouth settled over hers, his tongue sweeping inside. The kiss was positively indecent, wet and carnal, his hand drifting down to tease her breast through her blouse, using the soft cotton to heighten the sensation. Even as she was reeling in shock from his bold actions, instinct overrode her inhibitions, and she responded eagerly, wantonly. Upon reflection at a later time, she'd realized that if at that moment he'd hiked up her skirt and taken her there, in her kitchen chair, she wouldn't have had the willpower to deny him, would have given herself over without heed for the consequences.

Yet, for all his rough talk and ways, Rick was more honorable than that. When they needed to end the kiss to draw in air, he didn't press his advantage, his hand growing still on her breast. She unconsciously whimpered and pressed into his hand. He grinned smugly, but didn't resume the stroking. Nor did he remove his hand, the touch warm and reassuring through the thin material.

"Rick?" she murmured, worried her response had displeased him somehow. Then she realized how close she'd come to surrendering herself completely, and felt a cold spike of fear plunge through her system. Memories of her previous disaster evicted the warmth of passion from her instantly, and for the second time in only a few minutes, she tried to escape his lap.

His hand left her breast to firmly settle around her waist. He ignored her pointless struggles, and waited for her to accept the inevitable. She wasn't budging until the man was good and ready. "I wish there was something real profound and sensitive I could say right now," he was telling her, sounding almost apologetic. "I wish I knew how to put what I feel into actual words, other than 'I love you.' I'd just sound idiotic if I tried, but I am gonna say this. You can trust me, I won't hurt you."

"I know," she whispered, and she truly did. "I don't expect you to carry on, Rick. I know you haven't the patience or inclination for it."

"That's about the size of it," he agreed. "How about a deal?"

"A deal?" Wearily, she looked up at him, wondering what scheme he was concocting in his shrewd mind now. "Such as?"

"How about I can promise you an afternoon of fun without worrying about getting pregnant?" She absorbed his offer, intrigued and curious. After all, she did want him, there was no need to put on false airs. But how could he guarantee there'd be no child out of wedlock?

"You remember when I mentioned being careful, and you asked about it?" She nodded, shivering at the sensual quality coming over his voice. "How about I show you a way of being careful?"

"I won't have a baby? You swear?" she demanded, still a little hesitant.

"Every damn day." It took a few seconds, but she realized it was the exact thing he'd said to her at their first meeting. _I suppose you really can't depend solely on first impressions, _she mused silently. He winked, letting her know that it was an intentional echo. Rick gently slid her off his lap, stood up and offered his hand. She took it with hardly a pause. No, there had been no offers of marriage, but she'd hardly expected any. She was not entirely sure she would have trusted them in any event.

He led her back to her bedroom, maneuvering her until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She expected a fit of nerves, or some uneasiness. There was none, only anticipation and love for him. Had she wanted Winston this much? She probably had, but time and disappointment it seemed, had erased those particular memories. She did recall that she'd found satisfaction in his arms, and thought what she'd felt was love, but was no longer sure. If so, she'd been in love with an illusion. But now, as she gazed up at Rick, so very handsome and strong, she knew that this time, her feelings were well founded.

Rick's deft fingers slid his suspenders away and unbuttoned his grey shirt, and Evy's thoughts scattered as his well built chest came into view. She felt a surge of feminine appreciation, and her eyes widened. Winston, though good looking, had been a bit of a scrawny fellow, and although she hadn't found him unpleasant to look at, she'd certainly never enjoyed the view so much. She had no idea a man's chest could be so magnificent. Rick guided her hand onto his chest, closing his eyes as her fingers lightly grazed the hot skin. Encouraged, she began to lightly trace invisible lines along the defined muscles. He made these sounds between sighs and groans, obviously enjoying her touch. Emboldened, she began to manipulate his nipple between her thumb and forefinger as she pressed light, teasing kisses into his stomach.

"Enough already." His voice was hoarse as he gently eased her away. She noticed his hands were shaking as he unlaced his boots and took them off with his socks. She followed his examples and kicked off her practical pumps. She felt as though she was the most beautiful, seductive woman for miles, all because she'd affected Rick so. She lifted her skirt to her thighs, delighted with how his eyes never strayed from her exposed legs. She started to remove her stockings when he laid his hands over hers. "Let me."

Before she could form a coherent answer, he was placing his hands on her left ankle, applying light pressure as he slowly traveled up her leg, massaging all the way. It felt heavenly, and Evy pressed her leg into his ministrations, every cell of skin on her leg coming alive. When he finally reached her thigh, he peeled away the cheap material with equal slowness, placing open kisses to the exposed flesh as he went. She was caught off guard by the moan that escaped her own lips unbidden, the sound one of hunger and need. She spared a quick thought that she was glad she shaved her legs daily, but it was to be one of the last lucid thoughts she was to make for quite a while.

When he was done with the process, he started in on her right leg, and by the time he was finished, she was flushed and whimpering. She kissed him urgently, sliding her tongue along his lower lip, and he opened his mouth. He didn't wait for her to deepen the kiss, but took charge, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth to further fuel her craving for him.

They fell back on to the bed, and in time, Evy was stripped down to her knickers and camisole. She arched up against him, vexed that he still wore his trousers. She forgot about that, however, when Rick began exploring her body in earnest, bringing back long forgotten sensations. She gave herself with abandon, trusting Rick, but more importantly, trusting herself. She shrieked when he enveloped her breast through the thin cotton protecting her breasts, his large hands on her thighs. He silenced her with another drugging kiss, one that earned a passionate response.

She didn't realize she'd spread her legs wide, she didn't realize she was rocking her hips, eager for relief. She felt the warm air hit her upper torso as he dragged the camisole up, exposing her full breasts to his avid gaze. She lifted her arms, willing to be free of the obstructive fabric, wanting to feel Rick's bare skin against hers. Rick, it seemed, was of the same mind, for as soon as he tossed the item aside, he slid his hands under her back, lifting her against him, melding them together. Evy's eyes rolled back in her head, and she tightly wrapped her arms around him, even as her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Evy," he gritted out, kissing her roughly, his stubble scratching her delicate skin. She didn't care, could only cling to him and return his kiss in equal measure. He thrust down against her, letting her feel the pronounced bulge hidden away by his trousers. Evy mewled, and arched upward, rubbing herself frantically, unable to receive just the right amount of what she sought, held on the edge of release, meeting him stroke for stroke.

Abruptly, he broke the contact, moaning in his own disappointment. In vain, she tried to tug him back, unable to understand what he was doing. She heard a distinct ripping sound, her ruined knickers joining the rest of her clothes. Then, oh God, his fingers were ruining over the damp folds between her legs. Too under his spell to feel shy, she pressed into his hand; her head tossed back, eyes closed. Pure pleasure hammered away at her, the pressure building inside her almost unbearable. She was desperate for release, and yet drunk with the desire for it never to cease. Her nails sank into his shoulders, just short of drawing blood.

"Rick!" she cried when his fingers plunged up into her wet sheath, the underside of them dragging against her clit. With that, she exploded beneath him, spasms racking her body. He continued to pleasure her, prolonging her release. When it was over, she lay panting against the pillows, dazed. She whimpered when he withdrew his fingers, dragging along the sensitive flesh. She'd had no idea that a woman could find satisfaction in such a way, she'd thought it was only possible when he man was fully…well…within a woman. To her present chagrin, she'd allowed Winston to touch her in that intimate fashion, but he had never brought her fulfillment with his mere touch. Either Rick had a rare talent, or Winston wasn't as talented as he'd thought.

"Oh, my," she whispered, removing one hand from his shoulder to touch his face tenderly. She opened her eyes, smiling softly.

"Such a Brit," he mused, shaking his head in amusement. He leaned down, and gave her nose a kiss. "You ain't seen nothing yet, honey. That's just to get us started."

"Really? Are you so sure of yourself?" Evy briefly wondered if her heart could take such a strain, then dismissed the notion. If she died in Rick O'Connell's arms, it would be well worth it. Her eyes widened as she realized his hardness was settled against her thigh, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. Then it occurred to her that Rick had not shared in any of her satisfaction. "Rick? You didn't…I mean to say…you're still in quite a state, I believe."

"Yeah, you could say that." He was laughing at her, but she heard the strain in his voice. She decided to stop being such a prude at once. After all, she was a woman of the world, if only to a small degree. And had not Rick given her the most marvelous climax? She owed him the same courtesy.

Sitting up, she pushed at Rick's shoulder. "Lay down," she ordered.

"Evy-"

"Oh, will you just do as I say?" She leaned over to give him a sound kiss, but withdrew intentionally before he was ready. He groaned, but obliged her, sprawling out, his ankles hanging over the edge, his large frame swallowing up the small bed. It was just right for her, but it was obviously not built for a man of his size. Forcing any inbred inhibitions aside, she set about unbuttoning the fly of his trousers. It didn't take her long to realize how much he enjoyed the slight contact with her fingers, so began to purposely brush them against his enlarged member. The man gave a very pleasing response, surging up against her hand. She pulled his trousers off with his underwear, his manhood springing up before her eyes.

Gently grasping him with her fingers, she heard Rick grunt, his jaw tightening in what seemed to be ecstasy. She felt the flesh in her hand pulse against her grip, and began to stroke him lovingly, leaning over to steal kisses from his lips. He kissed her as though he wished to inhale her, and Evy felt more than her fair share of pride over the power she was exerting over her lover. His hips began to jerk, and she took his erection more firmly into her hand. "Give me a minute," he pleaded, his voice so raspy, she could hardly understand him. It had taken him a few tries to express that much at all.

"I think not," she denied him cheerfully, doubling her efforts.

"Shit!" he all but yelled. She wondered if his profanity was in reference to her refusal, or the stimulation she was applying most intimately. He was now grinding up against her in earnest, and she gripped him tightly now, playing with his sac below with her right hand. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and impulsively, she licked it from his lips. In an instant, his hands were tangled in her hair, smashing his lips against hers. The violence of his response made her freeze for a moment or two, and Rick gave a quick tug on her long curls to let her know he wanted…no, seemed to _need_ her to continue on with it.

How long this continued, she did not know. She lost herself in the gentle pumping of his shaft, in his most ardent responses. It was almost as exiting to please him as to be pleased herself. Almost.

At his tip, moisture seeped free, and intrigued, Evy ran her thumb across the dampness. "Close," she thought she heard him say. She clenched her right hand, and it was all over. His seed spurted into her left hand, onto the back of her right. It was certainly a mess, but the joy on Rick's face was more than worth it. When he was calmed, she headed to the basin on her dresser, and washed her hands with the rag. She then realized she was naked, and hurried for her robe. Rick clucked his tongue with mock disappointment. "Seems a shame to cover up such a good looking rear. Not to mention that bust-"

"That'll do," she admonished him sternly, securing her belt with a decisive tug. "Aren't you doing to dress?"

"Too damn hot in this country." He stretched, not the least bit self-conscious in his nudity. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of, she had to concede. She was secretly pleased she could admire him further, but wasn't about to say so. "Come 'ere."

"Very well." She couldn't suppress her smile, or the urge to smooth back his hair affectionately when she reached his side. "Rick, I couldn't help but notice that we didn't complete the act entirely."

"Well, it's a sure way of having fun without worrying about trouble down the road. Don't get me wrong, there's ways of decreasing your chances while going through with the whole thing." He smiled at her raised eyebrows. "Evy, how do you think hookers get business done without having twenty kids?"

"I can assure you that I don't give it much thought," she told him primly. "So, if that is indeed the case, why did we not-"

"Because no method's foolproof," he told her casually. "Once we're hitched, it won't be as big of a deal."

Evy's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"

"You want me to get down on one knee? Since I'm naked, it'd look a little funny, but…" he shrugged, grinning at her shocked state. "I love you, Evy, you're the one. Might as well."

"Might as well…once we're _hitched_!" She articulated the word incredulously, not sure whether to laugh or shriek at him. In the end, she gave way to laughter, hugging him tightly. Well, she'd certainly known she wouldn't have much in the way of romance, had she not? What she was earning in the bargain was far more valuable. Then she pulled back, trying to muster a severe expression. "Did you ever suppose I had no desire to marry?"

"No."

She sighed, running her hand through her hair in agitation. "Well, you're right, but…Rick, are you only asking because of the intimacies that we just shared?"

"They don't hurt," he replied irreverently. Before she could get too indignant, he tugged her down on top of him, cuddling with her. It was too nice to be vexed at him. "But that's not why. Call me crazy, but I'm asking because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want something…real for myself, if you want to know the truth. Who knows? Maybe we'll have a couple kids, but I bet we won't settle down."

"That would be entirely too dull." She smiled, wondering what it might like to be a mother under such circumstances, where she would not have to carry her child in shame and fear. She wasn't opposed to motherhood, although it was not the burning desire that many of her childhood friends had exhibited. She looked to her own mother as an example, a woman who had loved her children, and had been kind and loving when she was at home, although that had not been often, and it was obvious that the second Mrs. Carnahan's calling did not lie in the nursery. "Are you certain? About the idea of marrying, I mean."

"Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't," he pointed out. "So how about it?"

"Yes, Rick, I will marry you." They shared an enthusiastic kiss, and only separated when they needed air.

Later, Evy would offer up prayers of gratitude to her maker for sending Rick into her life. Not only had he accepted her, knowing of her darkest secret, but she knew he would not expect her to be the typical wife. Like her father and mother, they would be partners, and life would be their adventure.

They'd need a larger bed.

End


End file.
